I Won't Remember
by ITookThisName
Summary: An unknown reluctance to go home gets Second Lieutenant Havoc into a relationship he'd never considered. Rated M for malexmale pairing.


I Won't Remember

**Summary: **An unknown reluctance to go home leads Second Lieutenant Havoc in an interesting direction. How will he react the next morning?

**A/N:** So I was planning to post this before May, but hey, it's only the 3rd. Anyway, this is my first M for immoral fic. Heh heh yeah I know, bad joke. But truthfully, please review cos I need to know whether or not to continue.

**Disclaimer:** Obviously since this is posted on a fan fiction site, Fullmetal Alchemist doesn't belong to me.

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"Sir, you're drunk," a blond lieutenant with sharp features but a forgiving face told his superior, Colonel Roy Mustang, a handsome man with coal black hair. Jean Havoc could tell the colonel was two sheets to the wind, as his cheeks were flushed and the stool he was sitting on seemed increasingly hard for him to balance on. The statement was made in a matter-of-fact fashion, although it was obvious that Havoc was just as inebriated. Mustang just gave him a lopsided incredulous look, raising a dark eyebrow.

"You're drunker than me," he replied in the same matter-of-fact fashion.

In reality, it really was impossible to tell at this point, seeing as those who had arrived at the bar with them had left the two to their own devices. Hughes had left first- as always- to kiss his daughter goodnight. After him left Breda, who had not so much as left on his on volition but was dragged out by his flavour of the month. And so it went, until it was just the two of them, along with a sleepy bartender who was seriously reconsidering his policy of staying open until people stopped buying drinks.

"Nuh uh," was Havoc's intelligent reply. He frowned indignantly.

Mustang leaned towards until he was inches away from his face.

"Uh, yeah huh," he said in a mocking tone. Roy's face this close to his made Havoc antsy. He blinked wide-eyed a couple of times before the bartender announced, "Okay you two, it's closing time." The man behind the bar wanted to go to bed, and the two officers in front of him were reverting back to five year olds. It would be just his luck that they passed out at the same time.

Breathing in the cool night air definitely sobered them up, enough for Jean to forget he was supposed to be pissed off at the colonel. As they walked slowly (and not necessarily in a straight line) away from the bar wondering if this was it or where they should go next, Roy suddenly stopped. Havoc took an extra couple of steps before realising his now official drinking buddy (getting kicked out together made it official) was not beside him.

"Chief…?"

C'mere," Mustang told him. Jean shuffled backwards until he was once again by the side of his superior.

"Yea-"

With swiftness one would've thought a drunken Roy Mustang incapable of, Mustang grabbed his subordinate's collar and brought his lips crashing into the blond man's, forcing Havoc to lean down since he was at least half a foot taller. The powerful kiss lasted all of five seconds. If Havoc's face hadn't been already flushed from drinking, it sure as hell was now from his friend's spontaneity.

"Did I ever tell you that the way you walk knocks me off my feet?" Mustang asked him in a low voice, collar of Havoc's uniform still in his grasp as he stared at the stunned man's lips.

Still stooped over, Havoc numbly rose brought his fingers up to his now tingling lips. What the hell just happened? He remembered the colonel's question and shook his head, which mad the dark haired man smirk. "I guess not, eh?"

As the situation slowly became real and sunk into Havoc's alcohol-addled brain, he realised that he had actually liked what had just occurred. It's because you're plastered, a small voice in his head told him. That made sense. Well you know what they say, if it feels good, do it... He caught Mustang's lips in another kiss that grew more heated as it progressed. Mustang broke off the kiss and Jean answered his question before he had a chance to ask.

"My place is just a block away from here."

Havoc was pinned against his bedroom wall, his back colliding with the cool plaster almost painfully. It was a miracle in itself that they had made it to his apartment alone, not to mention they still had their clothes on in his room. He gasped, mostly for the breath that had been knocked out of him, but also due to the fact that Mustang had ground his hips into Havoc's own with animalistic need.

"Fuck…" he groaned as Mustang trailed hard kisses and nips down his neck, marking him. When he reached Jean's collar, he pulled at it, trying to expose more. He tore open the jacket that was causing him difficulty threw it to an unknown destination somewhere in the room. Havoc's shirt was soon to follow, as Roy assisted him in removing it. Mustang's clothes left his body in the same fashion. Roy stopped undressing to admire his partner for a moment, running his hand roughly along Havoc's exposed torso, drinking in the sight of the blond leaning against the wall.

"Damn Jean, you should wear clothes less often."

"I could say the same thing to you, colonel."

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Sorry for the cliffhanger guys, but I really wanted to get this posted and I have a shitload of homework to do...the moral of the story? School sucks. 


End file.
